Postcards From Starhold
The daily exploits of Resmi Val'Rance and the people of Starhold. Hired Help The knock came on her door mere seconds after she finished her morning prayers. Martha had gotten the timing down to an art. “Come in.” Resmi answered automatically, rising from her seat at the foot of her bed. “Good morning, my lady.” Martha smiled, proffering the tray she was carrying. “Good morning, Martha. Thank you.” She took the mug of tea and sipped as Martha swept the tray under her arm smartly, “How is the day's schedule?” “Well miss there's a representative from a local fortress to speak with you.” “Another local lord worried we're going to take away his absolute and self-serving rule over an unlucky few?” Resmi set down the mug on her bedside table and removed her nightdress. “I'm afraid so, miss.” Martha bustled to help Resmi with her clothing. Martha didn't do much without bustling. “And how many bodyguards has this one brought?” “Four, miss.” “Oh good. They're scared.” Resmi was never quite sure what to do with her arms as Martha fastened buttons and straightened various things about her person. As Martha stepped back she admired her reflection in the looking glass. She had wanted a practical outfit for everyday use, and various parties had thought it should either be grand and elegant or armoured and combat-ready. She thought it was a nice compromise. The breeches were practical and mobile, the shirt was elegant, and the waistcoat was a masterwork – the azure garment was covered in intricate golden designs, and was also reinforced so that it was practically a breastplate. Her reflection looked grand and proud for all of a moment before Martha set about brushing her hair. “Anything else to be seen to?” “I'm told we're expecting some respondents to the call for a squire.” “Oh good. As much as I enjoy your company, Martha, I feel awful having you attend to all my needs on top of your other duties.” “Oh it's no trouble, miss.” Martha pulled a particularly tough knot from Resmi's hair, “It keeps the other servants in line when they know I've got a line straight to your ear.” Resmi smiled, “I'm sure.” Martha stepped back, took Resmi's cloak from its place on the hook and draped it over her shoulders. “There we are. All ready for the day.” Martha stepped back from fastening the cloak and put her hands on her hips, admiring a job well done. “Thank you, Martha.” “No trouble, miss.” Martha curtsied briefly and left Resmi to her devices. Still before the mirror, Resmi drained her mug and set it down before turning to leave with a swish of her cloak. She rather liked the effect. * Hagart gave the appearance of being quite small, though he might have been tall. It looked like he was used to stooping so he would fit in a shadow. Resmi took her seat facing the door, where all four of Hagart's bodyguards were lined up. As per her usual orders, none of her own guards were in the room or posted outside. “What can we do for you, Mr Hagart?” She reclined in the chair, holding her staff planted as usual on the ground beside it. “Um, well- sorry, Miss Val'Rance, but is it necessary for you to be armed?” “Armed? Oh, no, these are mere symbols of office.” She patted the sheathe on her belt, “The sword symbolises my position as the acting authority of Starhold, while my staff signifies my position as a cleric and a paladin. Nothing to worry about, I assure you.” Resmi gave an assuring smile. “Um, okay, well, I was hoping we could discuss your, um, intentions. My master, Lord Balon, he's noticed that your borders are rather close to the villages he rules and wanted to know if you plan to expand further.” “Oh, certainly.” “Oh.” Hagart had clearly been expecting that confession to take longer, and gave the impression of a player piano going over a tear in the paper. He looked to his bodyguards for help, and they dutifully pretended not to notice, “And what of his Lordship?” “That rather depends on him. If he can convince m- us that his rule has been benevolent and prosperous, we shall allow him to continue governing the area on our behalf.” “Oh dear.” Hagart rubbed his hands together with nerves, “And if not?” “Well then it all depends on how much he fights. If he is not fit to govern beneath us and he is a smart man, what he would do is take from the coffers as much as a horse can carry and flee until he hits water. If he is not smart, I'm afraid we'll probably end up having to kill him.” The bodyguards bristled, and it was at this point that Resmi first seemed to notice them, “Oh, and you too if you don't have sense enough to abandon him, unfortunately.” “I see.” Hagart was staring at the table as if it was the only stationary object in a spinning room. “Of course, I hope it doesn't come to that. Killing people is such a dreadful waste. So tell me, Mr Hagart, which course do you think is the one his lordship will drive us down?” Hagart wrung his hands for a while, then finally shot his eyes up to Resmi, “Um, I think he'll probably make you kill him, Miss Val'Rance.” Resmi sighed. “Such a shame. And how many men does his lordship have?” “Including these ones, Miss Val'Rance?” Resmi nodded slightly, “About twenty.” “I see. And how many mechanical dragons?” “Pardon?” “It's a simple question, Mr Hagart, how many mechanical dragons are among Lord Balon's ranks?” “Um, none, Miss Val'Rance.” Hagart was glancing around, as if looking for the fastest exit. “Oh dear. Well, that's no good for him.” Resmi stood, “You seem like an honest man, Mr Hagart. If you like your boss, encourage him in any way you can to run. If you don't, simply let him know we'll be at his door soon enough. If you, Mr Hagart, need anything, do feel free to ask one of my staff before you leave. And all of you, do remember, abandoning his lordship is always an option. Good day.” “Good day, Miss Val'Rance.” He quavered as she strode out of the room. As her footsteps receded, he heaved a sigh and let his head fall to the table. * Resmi stepped out into the sunlight of the courtyard to find a group assembled in a loose hodge-podge around the fountain, “I take it you would be the applicants for the position of my squire?” “Aye, my lady!” The halfling snapped to attention and saluted Resmi as she approached. He was wearing rough leather armour and had the beginnings of a beard on his chin. “I like the enthusiasm. What is your name, good fellow?” Resmi smiled slightly. “Jont Honeydew, my lady.” He bowed deeply, “An honour and a pleasure to stand before you.” The rest of the throng appeared to see this as the cue to introduce themselves, so as not to let the halfling take the advantage. A grippli slipped to the front of the group. “Billory Shanucka, my lady.” He doffed a feathered cap as he bowed, “I eagerly await the chance to serve you.” “Elaine Marsters, my lady,” A blonde human in fine clothes probably older than Resmi curtsied, “It is an honour. My parents send their regards.” “Thank you.” Resmi said automatically, presuming them to be nobility. The armoured girl who stepped forward next looked with mild disgust at Elaine before she turned her attention to Resmi, “Mina Smith, miss.” She bowed, scowling privately at Elaine, “My old dad sends his regards as well.” “Thank you.” Resmi answered in the same level tone. “You may rise.” She added after Mina stayed bowed, at which point she straightened up and stepped heavily back into the crowd. “I am Senjin Mistwalker, my platinum lady” Resmi made a conscious effort not to be surprised by the voice speaking in draconic from knee-height beside her. The green and yellow lizardman had apparently come from nowhere, “It would be my honour to lend you my bow, my hands, and my body.” He took her by the hand and pressed it to his reptillian not-lips, before quickly rising and stepping back as he bowed. Resmi stared in bemusement for a few seconds, “Yes, thank you. Well, if you'd like to form an orderly line, you can tell me why you're suitable for the position.” What followed was fairly transparently the efforts of all of the applicants through various means to place themselves at the front of the line. After a few moments of shuffling Resmi cleared her throat and struck her staff against the ground, and the line fell in. “Miss Smith. In your own time.” Resmi held her staff sideways at waist height and smiled gently. “Well, miss, there's nobody miles around knows half what I do about armour, miss. Got a knack for it, miss.” The girl removed her helmet and tucked it under her arm, revealing cropped copper hair, “Gotta know about armour, does a squire, my dad says.” Apparently involuntarily, she wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I see. And was it your father that told you to come apply?” Resmi spoke quietly. “Yes, miss. Says I can make a good living for myself, and that a lass like me oughtn't be wasting her time in a dirty old forge.” Mina answered diligently. “Anything else you'd like to add, Miss Smith?” “No miss.” Mina shook her head, then saluted a little uncertainly. “Thank you, Miss Smith.” Resmi took a slow step down the line, “Mr Shanucka?” The grippli cleared his throat, an act which took three distinct neck movements and sounded like a rubber pipe being snapped, “I'm the best sword of my village, my lady. When we heard word you wished for a squire, it would decided that I of the village ought to try my hand.” “Any other talents?” “I'm quite the survivalist, my lady. There are few as comfortable as I in a forest at night.” He seemed satisfied, then hastened to add, “And I can play the banjo.” “Thank you, Mr Shanucka.” She moved on, “Miss Marsters?” “Well, my lady, I've the advantage of an extensive education on a range of subjects, and I've quite a mind for arithmetic and management...” She began to trail as she got glances from the other applicants. Mina was shaking her head, “And I can fence, of course.” “Fence, you say?” Resmi stroked her chin, “That would be when two people fight with blunted swords for sport, yes?” “Well, yes...” Elaine got quite quiet, “They do still rather hurt...” “Miss Marsters, have you ever fought someone who was trying to kill you?” Resmi probed softly. “Not as such...” “If Mr Shanucka were to turn to you and draw his blade, would you be ready to fend him off?” Billory smirked slightly. “I don't know, my lady, but I would try.” “Good.” Resmi nodded, “Thank you, Miss Marsters.” As Resmi moved on, each cell in Elaine's body sighed in relief, “Mr Honeydew, if you please?” Jont stood at attention again and saluted, “Not to brag, my lady, but I'm a fine hand in a fight and I know my way around things, my lady. I can saddle a horse, bandage a wound, pick a lock, anything you might need, my lady.” He leant forward and flashed a grin at Billory, “And I can play the flute.” “Impressive, Mr Honeydew.” As Resmi was about to advance, the attention of the group was caught by the sound of hooves on the stone bridge. For want of better words, a knight in shining armour rode on a white charger into the courtyard. He cantered around behind Resmi and dismounted, revealing himself to be of heroic proportions, in certain excess of six feet tall. In a single movement, he fell to one knee before Resmi and pulled a shining greatsword from its sheathe on his back. As he came down the blade span in one hand, catching the sunlight and gleaming as he brought it down to bury the tip a good half a foot in the dirt before him. “I am Maelon Rantham, of Brighthollow, Lady Val'Rance, and I wish to pledge my blade to you. I have travelled these hallowed plains for many months following my training in the sword and in the ways of the knight errant. I have yet to meet a man who can best me in single combat, and I've defeated beasts and fell warriors of all kinds. As well I am experienced in living on the trail and dealing with the unpredictable turns that this land will throw at a travelling man.” Elaine whispered loud enough for the other applicants to hear “Yes, but can he join our band?” The armoured man looked up at Resmi, then around at the applicants, and continued in a voice of genuine curiosity, “I trust the squire applications are still open?” Resmi boggled for a moment, then brought herself forcibly to her senses, “Um, yes, yes they are. But tell me, Mr Rantham, what a man of such experience and skill is doing seeking the lowly position of a squire.” The man stood up, unfolding to his full height. “Because I am told, Lady Val'Rance, that you and your fellows here at Starhold care nothing for how a man is born.” The orc removed his helmet. Community Service In the end, Resmi did not hire a squire. The position that Maelon came to occupy was one that no name could be put to, operating as one of Resmi's trusted advisors and assistants, while also being sent on quests or accompanying her in her own. His role had little of the definition that came with the positions appointed to the other squire applicants. Billory, Jont, and Senjin were made the first official military escort to Resmi and her associates, though in truth when they did escort her it was largely to keep up appearances; generally they ran odd-jobs where some scuffles might occur. Mina was offered the position of Resmi's personal armourer and jeweller, largely working on producing and maintaining various pieces that dithered between practical and impressive, armouring for the Star Guard in her spare time. Elaine, in a turn that made her happy as a lamb, became Resmi's personal secretary, a job which enjoyed comparatively few life-threatening situations despite it being adjacent to a Star Cleaver. “How is my day looking, Miss Marsters?” Resmi tugged at the collar of her cloak as she walked and Elaine peeled off the wall to follow her. “Busy, ma'am. Masons are building faster than the miners can supply them-” “Then... Why not take the hired help from the masons and put them on mining detail?” Resmi offered. Elaine paused, then scribbled on her clipboard. “Right. Yeah. Iago has suggested,” She lifted up a leaf of paper and counted briefly, “Forty six new name ideas for the inn since last night, Galatea wants two thousand gold for, quote, 'none of your business'-” “Nothing from Mal?” Resmi asked as they headed downstairs. “I saw Malachi, actually. He waved at me then coughed very loudly then he walked off. It was astonishingly strange.” She looked off into the distance briefly before returning to her clipboard, “Underhold has put in a zoning request concerning land for some kind of game?” Elaine shrugged, “Mr Kroshe wants to speak with you about recruitment for his... ahem.” “You can say the word brothel, Elaine.” Resmi smiled. “It just doesn't seem proper...” She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Any news on teachers for the school yet?” The pair came out into the dining hall of Starhold Tower, serving staff clocking the ladyship's entrance and heading into gear. “Well word should be out to all the settlements by now, but no response yet, I'm afraid.” Elaine plucked a bun from a tray as Resmi took her seat, “I'll go see to the miner thing, and make sure Underhold's representative is ready to receive you.” “Thank you, Elaine.” A tray of bread and cheese slid in front of Resmi, “I think I'd lose my head without you.” “Happy to be of service, ma'am.” * “Football, you say?” Resmi looked out over the fields on Underhold's northern border. “Oh yes, ma'am.” The town's representative stroked his chin automatically, “It's a beautiful game. Some of the lads round here are crazy about it.” “And all you need is bare field?” “Well, there's goalposts involved too, ma'am, but essentially, yes.” He began gesticulating, “You see, your ladyship, football's about the only way besides drinking the fellas 'round here let off steam. It's good for them to have a place to play it.” “Well, yes, certainly I see no harm in making sure land is kept open for playing on. In fact, I'd like to encourage people to play this 'football', it sounds like a healthy way to spend an afternoon. You say there's tactics involved?” “Oh yes, ma'am. Like a well-orchestrated battle, is a football game.” He nodded assuredly. “You say it's the men that play it, yes. Women aren't prohibited from playing are, they?” “Oh no, not as such, no, just never seem interested.” Darius shook his head persistently, “No, no rule says a woman can't play. Or a frog, for that matter.” Billory shifted uncomfortably at his post a few feet behind the conversation at his sudden inclusion in proceedings. He cast a consternate look at Jont. “Well, I shall have to come and observe a game sometime. A representative will be down at some point to discuss the specifics of setting up a permanent football field. Was there anything else, Mr Townman?” “No, your ladyship, that was all.” Darius bowed his head slightly, “Thank you kindly for coming.” “Not at all, Mr Townman. The visit was most enlightening.” She smiled, “Now I'll allow you to return to your affairs. Good day.” * “Good day, Mr Kroshe.” Resmi smiled as she walked into the gloomy haze of his front room. For all it was set up as an up-front above-board establishment, there were simply certain expectations to be met when it came to whore-houses. “Is it?” The kobold grumbled over a book laid out on the counter. “I understand you wanted to speak with me?” Resmi perched herself on a stool at the bar, across from Kroshe. “Yeah.” He pulled down the bookmark and shut the book, “I'm having difficulties running a whore-house with no whores.” Resmi pursed her lips for a moment, “You have to understand, these are... conservative communities. They have feelings about what's proper for a young person to do with their life. Of course they wouldn't oppose to whores being here, so much as their children being whores.” Resmi gestured with open palms, “I'm sure once we get the ball rolling business will be booming.” Kroshe raised a scaly eyebrow, “And where are we on the ball rolling part of the plan?” “I have top men on a recruitment drive.” The former mayor rolled his eyes, “Things take time. In the meantime, you've got the front room.” Resmi gestured to the empty bar room, “I'm sure you're selling plenty of liqueur, right?” “If by that you mean you're effectively paying me in whisky, yes.” He poured himself another drink, “Only business I get is when people want to make sure nobody sees them, because they know this place'll be dead.” “Things will pick up once you have some staff.” “You sure that secretary of yours isn't interested in working here?” “Positive, Mr Kroshe.” “Shame.” “Speaking of assistants,” He began, his eyes on the glass he'd began cleaning, “How's the Mayoress doing?” “She's doing an excellent job. She really seems to have everything in hand over at Hilltop. You must have taught her well.” “Oh no, she had natural talent anyway. I bet she's doing a better job than I ever did.” “Perhaps.” Resmi gave a lopsided shrug, “She asked after you, last time I visited.” Resmi smirked as the kobold's ears pricked up, “She did? What'd she say?” “Oh, she was just making sure you hadn't fallen desperately in love with some courtesan.” Kroshe looked around the empty front room, “Yeah, fat chance of that.” “You know, I'm told we're holding a ball of some sort soon. You should ask to escort her.” Resmi got to her feet. “You think so?” He looked up at her. “Oh yes, certainly. Who better to make sure she's doing her Mayorly position justice?” Resmi smiled back at him as she crossed to the door. “Thanks for the advice.” He smiled, then wiped it off his face as Resmi began to leave, “Hey, now make sure that you see to my staffing problem.” “Of course. Good day, Mr Kroshe.” Resmi shut the door behind her. “Damn right it is.” He mumbled to himself as he cracked his book back open. * “Ma'am!” Elaine flittered up to Resmi with her clipboard as she entered Starhold Tower. “Yes, Elaine?” “There's something of a kerfuffle concerning the position of the perimeter wall.” “Again?” “Yes, it's concerning the view this time.” Resmi rubbed the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, “Is there anything else?” “Hilltop are asking for more guards. Something about werebears.” Elaine grimaced at the page. “Do we have any guards to spare?” Elaine sifted through a few sheets of paper, “No.” “I'll see if Galatea's busy...” “Oh, and you told me to remind you you're conducting Sunday service tomorrow.” “Thank you, Elaine. Will that be all?” “Yes.” Elaine beamed, then glanced at her clipboard, “Oh wait, no. Iago has submitted another twenty-seven inn names for review.” Authority Figure Lady Val'Rance did not wear high heels. Nor did she us lifts of any kind, or quietly levitate just off the floor. She was not, however, tall. When those brought before her really looked at her, it was clear she was a fairly short person, in fact. So they assumed there was a trick to it. They tried not to let it bother them that they had no idea what the trick was, or that they couldn't seem to hold the idea that she was short still in their head. Resmi herself had no idea she had this effect. “Constable Oakwood?” She said it firmly, but the inflection left the implication that perhaps she was making sure she had his name right. “Yes ma'am.” His eyes were cast down and he was holding his helmet in his hands, fingering the rim. Resmi nodded imperceptibly. “Constable, would you like to recount the events that brought you before me today?” The room was empty except for Lady Val'Rance and Constable Oakwood. He cleared his throat noisily and made an effort to look at her, “Discrimination in duty and arrest without warrant, ma'am.” “I see you are aware, then, of the Star Guard Code of Conduct. That is gratifying. We spent a long time and a lot of care composing it. So I expect you are surprised you were brought before me, rather than a superior officer of the Guard.” He noticed that her body did not move as she spoke, “I took a particular interest in the rules you broke. Are you sure you wouldn't like to elaborate on the events in your own terms?” He raised his eyes and looked at her blankly, “I arrested a ratman on suspicion of theft with no evidence, ma'am.” “Do you have anything to say in your defence?” He met her gaze, burning icily down at him, then cast his eyes down again. “No, ma'am.” Clearly, he really did know the Code of Conduct and the law well, “You've got me bang to rights, as they say.” “You don't want to mention who you stole the necklace for?” She raised an eyebrow, and one edge of her mouth might have twitched upwards. “No, ma'am. Wouldn't want to get her into any trouble.” He looked up at her pleadingly, “She didn't have anything to do with it, ma'am. Didn't even know about it.” She looked past him, at the wall over his head, for a moment, then turned and strode behind the desk and sat down, “You may go, Mister Oakwood. The guards outside the door will escort you to your cell to await trial.” “Thank you, ma'am.” He wasn't sure why he was thanking her. Largely he was distracted as he turned to go by the same nagging feeling; why did she keeping looking down at him, and why did he keep looking up at her? He was a head taller for gods' sake! * Even in the months Maelon had been absent, it appeared Starhold had been busy. Even as they rode into Munt, they met a Star-Guard checkpoint. The border of the lands Starhold called her own had extended at least another mile since Maelon left. And, it appeared, young Corporal Davis had been busy. “Is that sergeant's strips I see, Davis?” Maelon bellowed cheerily from horseback. “Sergeant Davis, if you don't mind, Mister Rantham.” The woman smiled amiably all the same, “This fellow with you?” She nodded to the older human gentleman on a horse next to Maelon. “Indeed he is, this is the fellow I was sent to fetch.” Resmi had been particular about it. Nobody and nothing was going to harm him on the way to Starhold. He tipped his hat to the lady, “Good morning, Sergeant. I'm Father Val'Rance.” “Ah, you'd be her Ladyship's dad. I won't delay you, then, on you go.” She stepped back to her post at the side of the road. “Nice seeing you again, Sergeant Davis.” Maelon nodded as their horses began to walk on. “Give my regards to her Ladyship, Mister Rantham.” The sergeant saluted. “Certainly.” He saluted in return, “You'll be quite the figure of interest around here, Father Val'Rance. Your daughter is highly regarded.” “I shouldn't wonder at why. She was always a compassionate soul.” Digne smiled to himself. “You seem to be taking the whole leadership thing rather in stride, sir, if I may say so.” “Oh, I never expected or wanted my girl to be confined by her parenthood. It's as well they chased her out of my care, who knows how long I'd have kept her from the world if they hadn't.” He cast his smile towards Maelon, a beacon of quiet warmth, “I worried of course that the world wouldn't be ready for my daughter. I never for a second imagined she wouldn't be ready for the world.” * “What if he doesn't even recognise me?” Resmi fussed over the collar and the hem and the sleeves of the dress. She'd wanted to wear her old clothes, but they no longer fit her and weren't really fit for wear besides. “He'll recognise you.” Iago said from beside her, quite assuredly. “What makes you so sure?” She looked down at him despairingly. “Your eyes.” “My eyes?” She furrowed her brow, “What about my eyes?” “They're the same. They didn't change when you became a human.” Iago pressed. “What? Of course they did. They used to be pure black!” She gesticulated wildly, then carefully put each part of her appearance back as it had been. “Yeah, but they're still basically the same. Look at Mal and ask him.” Iago insisted. Resmi turned to her other side and looked at Mal's face. “Well?” He squinted. “Yeah. The eyes are definitely the same.” He cocked his head, “That's quite strange, actually, now that I think about it.” “They're here, my Lady!” Called Constable Townman from his spot on the south-west watchtower. In a frantic burst Resmi deflated, primped heavily, then drew herself back to her full height. Moments later, Maelon and Father Val'Rance rode in to the Starhold courtyard. Maelon halted his horse halfway towards the assembled group and dismounted, allowing Father Val'Rance to dismount a few feet from the middle of the gathered throng. He took a few steps forward and hugged his daughter tightly. Only Malachi and Iago could catch the whispers of “I missed you” and “I missed you too.” When he stepped back, he took in the sight of his daughter. “Such a beautiful young woman my daughter has blossomed into.” His smile could have saved the entire extended Starhold area a week of firewood. “You don't think I look... different?” He looked lovingly into her eyes, “Not to a father.” She smiled weakly, then cleared her throat. She fell to a knee in front of her father and held up her staff, resting on her open palms. Only a select few understood the draconic that followed, “It has served me well, Father, but this staff is yours.” Father Val'Rance looked down at his daughter, then at the staff in her hands. He reached down and took her hands in his, closing them around the staff, and replied back in draconic, “Not any more.” Resmi planted the staff on the ground and stood resting on it, “Thank you, Father.” “No, my flower, thank you.” Father Val'Rance looked around at the peopled courtyard of Starhold, then focused his contented attention on Malachi and Iago, “You must be Misters Pensile and Montelo. Mister Rantham has told me much about you. You must be very proud.” He shook each of their hands, making as little show as possible of the fact he had to bend at the knees to reach Iago's. “Indeed.” Mal answered quite blankly. “Yeah... What exactly did Maelon tell you?” Iago gave him an inquisitive look. “About how you saved the world, repeatedly, and have been helping the people in this region. Few are lucky enough to have such power, and fewer are wise enough to use it so well.” He stood at ease, his hands behind his back, looking for all the world to be entirely comfortable in an unfamiliar land. “Thank you, Mr Val'Rance. We couldn't have done it without your daughter.” “Really. It sounds like we're just talking her up but honestly we couldn't be without her.” Mal added. “It's just nice to know she has friends such as yourselves. I understand you've each made some quite impressive developments in your fields. I hear you died twice, Mister Montelo.” He said with interest. “Er, yes, yes I did.” Iago answered a little proudly. “Well done.” “Thank you, sir. Now, I'm sure you and Resmi have a lot of catching up to do, so Mal and I'll just be going,” Then he added, louder, “Won't we?” He cast a glance around the assembled onlookers, so they knew who 'we' included. “I can show you around the tower, Father, then I can show you the church where I'd like you to preach.” Resmi was aware she sounded like a child, and so made sure her posture remained impeccable and if anyone passing caught her eye, she gave them a stare that dared them to mention it. “That sounds delightful. You can tell me all about everything. I want to hear every detail.” Father Val'Rance beamed at his daughter as they left, while in her head she decided which details she should conveniently forget. The night before the assault on the Dawn Fortress already seemed to be becoming quite hazy, as a matter of fact. * Walking through the corridors of the castle, meanwhile, Mal turned his head to Iago, “Well that went quite well, didn't it?” “Yes,” Iago nodded, “Certainly better than when Eptol met his family.” Finishing Touches Resmi wiped her forehead and stood back to admire the effect of the holy symbols, carved on the wall in an arc. Irori and Sarenrae's flanked the far edges, then Apsu and Iomadae's on either side of Deimos' in the centre. It was not perfect, the work was fairly crude, but she'd not have had anyone else do it. She'd accepted help on the construction and furnishing, but this finishing touch was hers alone. It was an act of prayer. “I still don't see what's special about those five.” Iago contributed helpful from the doorway, “What's wrong with the lucky drunk? And anyway, you already had the All Faiths built.” “It's not about worshipping these five gods. It's about being what they represent.” Resmi continued looking up at the rings of the central symbol, “It's about taking action.” Iago shrugged, “Please yourself. I intend to go and be what Cayden Cailean represents down the Rat. You coming?” “Order me something sweet, I'll not be far behind you.” “See you in a bit, then.” He rapped on the wooden door by way of goodbye, and Resmi looked around the church. It was small, as churches went, but it would do. There was no podium or pulpit, but the whole of the floor in front of the pews was raised a few inches. She tidied up her tools and picked up the bag before heading out of the door. She was already used to having cobbles and flagstones under her feet. She waved to Durreen Flin-Karn, a minotaur who had moved with her family to Starhold after the Guardian of the Orb was relieved of his post, and Maelon, Jont, and Billory had stopped to chat about the developing town. As Resmi recalled, her husband reckoned he was going to make it big in the gem trade, and she worked at Kir'riahn's Lizardfolk Cuisine Eatery. Their son wanted to be in the Guard when he grew up. Resmi smiled to herself as she continued up into the town square, then turned right into the Drowned Rat. Iago was at the bar with Sarinak, on one of the higher stools, which came discreetly furnished with several heights of footrest that might also be used, by the shorter patron, as rungs. At one of the tables Constables Dimly and Went were playing cards with Jont and Mr Flin-Karn. Constable Dimly had done his time for thieving and switched to the winning side, and Constable Went was a were-bear. As his mother said, it takes all kinds and it'd be a funny old world if were all the same. Jont touched his forelock as Resmi went past. “Ladyship.” He smiled. “Mr Honeydew.” She returned the smile, and took her seat beside Iago, leaning her staff on the bar. “That's yours there.” Iago indicated the glass of mead, and Resmi readily took a sip. “Iago was just telling me you'd finished your church.” Sarinak said over Iago's head. “Just about. Just waiting for the churchgoers now.” Sarinak spoke a draconic proverb, then translated for Iago's benefit, “If you build it, they will come.” “I find it helps if you fill it with booze.” Iago took a sip, “Have you Sent to Eptol today?” “This morning. He says he thinks he's getting close now, but still can't find a map. Apparently the people have started having some interesting things to say about Starhold.” “Like what?” Sarinak asked. “Are they about me?” Resmi shrugged, “He only gets twenty five words, it's hard to quote people.” “Is Malachi around? He ought to be here for when Eptol gets back.” Sarinak glanced towards where the Tower would be if there wasn't a pub wall in the way. “I honestly don't know when he's walking the planes of the ineffable or holed up in his room.” Iago shrugged. “I'll try to get him to hang around next time I see him.” Said Resmi, then her eyes fell to wandering the room again, “Is that Illai'na with Corporal Brown again?” “Where?” Sarinak asked, and Resmi nodded to the secluded table in the far corner, “Looks like it, yeah.” “I reckon they've got something going on.” Resmi half-whispered. “He's not half her size!” Sarinak responded, incredulous. “I don't see why that should stop him.” Iago took a swig with the sort of jerky arm motion that meant to men of every shape, size, and universe of origin, 'get in there, my son'. “Yes, dream big, that's what I say.” Resmi shared a smile with Iago. “I suppose you've got to admire a man who chooses the uphill battle.” Sarinak conceded, drinking. Resmi turned to a tap on her shoulder, “Oh, hello Galatea. Didn't think you drank.” “No.” Galatea agreed, “But I came to speak with Iago, and to tell you there is a young girl waiting for you at the tower.” “Say it louder and more suggestively, Galatea, I'm not sure exactly everyone in the bar thinks I've arranged a tryst.” Resmi said loud enough for people to hear, then downed the remainder of her drink as Galatea started up. “I said there's an attractive young lady awaiting your-” “Yes, yes, ignoring the sarcasm was extremely amusing. Thank you for the message. I'll see you both later.” She picked up her staff and walked for the door. “It's your round next time!” Iago insisted as she left. * “Hello, Lena.” Resmi said as she approached the young lady. Lena turned to face her, and smiled sweetly, “Hello, Miss Val'Rance.” “Has Galatea told you to wait out here? Do come inside.” Resmi gestured with her free hand to the doors of the tower. “Oh, no, I like it out here. The stars are coming out, I find it quite pretty.” “As you wish. To what do I owe the pleasure?” “Well it's just that our village is holding a small dance this Friday, and my father and I would be delighted to see you there.” Her eyes seemed to be wandering up and down the sight of Resmi in her work-clothes, down the fall of her cloak and down her arm to her staff and back again. Lena had quite taken to seeing, and she could look with the best of them. Sometimes she even observed. “I'd be delighted to attend.” Resmi smiled as Lena's eyes flashed happiness. “Wonderful. My father will be so thrilled when I tell him.” “Glad to hear it. Incidentally, Lena, do you know how long ago it was that I met you?” Resmi leaned on her staff. “I think about three years now, Miss Val'Rance.” Lena glanced up as new stars twinkled their way onto the night's sky. “Three years this Friday, if I've been keeping my calendar right.” Resmi followed Lena's eye, “Now, as it's getting dark, will you allow me to escort you home?” “But the roads have never been safer, since the wall was built and the Star Guard started patrolling. A lady can walk calm at night now.” Lena smiled. It was her chief occupation, after looking. “Still, you can never be too careful.” Resmi gestured with her staff towards the gate, and they began walking. “If you could be too careful, though, I fancy it would be if you were walking with Lady Val'Rance.” “Ah, but I haven't got my armour on. It still wouldn't be a fair fight to anyone out there, but I'm not at my most fearsome.” Resmi allowed herself a chuckle. She had killed people, plural, and was certainly one of the most dangerous things in Starhold, but it still felt odd to call herself fearsome. “I don't think you're fearsome, Miss.” Lena said generously. “That is because you are on the right side, Lena. You're a good young lady.” They were out of Starhold town now, and the road was turning to simply compact dirt. Furthermore, it was getting darker. “There's no moon tonight,” Lena complained, “I can't see a thing.” “That,” Said Resmi as she waved her staff and it lit up with the light of the sun, “Is where I come in.”